Rough Night
by Colorrogue
Summary: Uhura deals with the repercussions of a night out.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters, I just play with them._

The light streaming from her dorm room window had never seemed so bright and Cadet Uhura groaned before rolling over onto her stomach to avoid the onslaught. Her consciousness was slowly seeping back, her muscles and limbs regaining their use from the night before and she made a silent vow never to drink again. She had never gone overboard and she was always so careful to watch her limits but last night, something had been pushing her toward that edge. Nyota knew what it was of course but the weight of her secret pressed down on her resolve as the drinks began to flow at the campus bar, Gaila urging her to "let go" and have some fun for once. Now she was dealing with the consequences of over-drinking and worst of all, that secret was still nagging at her subconscious. It wasn't leaving her alone and she groaned again, louder this time out of mortification, into her pillow.

The physiological response of alcohol consumption was catching up to her and the headache that sliced through her brain felt like a mortal injury, her stomach churning with acid and the remnants of last night noisily. She was too smart to have done something as stupid as getting… well, shitfaced and yet there she was incredibly ill and cursing herself. She had no concept of time and never had she felt as sick as she was then. It could have been eight a.m. or it could have been noon, either way there was no chance of Uhura making it to class. Her world spun behind her closed eyes and it felt like her brain was bouncing around the inside of her skull, her mouth dry and lips stuck together in an uncomfortable reminder of her dehydration. The thought of putting anything in her stomach however made the liquid she had ingested bubble disgustingly in the pit of her abdomen and she swallowed down the newest wave of nausea that flowed over her body. She didn't want to know what she looked like, but she imagined her makeup from the night before smudged and her dress discarded somewhere near the bed.

It started in the language lab with Spock leaning over her, translations strewn all over her narrow desk while his keen eyes raked over her progress and no doubt checking for potential mistakes. She had been granted access to the lab and all its books by the Board who recognized her proficiency in language, backed by the half-Vulcan's recommendation. Three days a week, Uhura was permitted to work on advanced translations, phonemics and tonal variation in a setting that allowed her to hone her skills exponentially instead of having to pace herself in classes that restrained her talents. She had Spock to thank, if she was being honest with herself. The lab contained priceless data that only professionals had been allowed to utilize but her sparkling grade point average and Spock's shining endorsement had shot her through months of red tape. She had been working with him for two months when the feelings began, although it had just been a seed of admiration at first and had flourished from there. Uhura would watch him pour over translations, his fathomless eyes narrowed in concentration and she wanted to badly to know what went on behind his carefully schooled face. It only worsened from there as she began to watch his hands while he held the stylus of his PDA, moving then along his jaw line to the tips of his delightfully pointed ears.

Uhura believed she had gone insane and there was no way she could confide in anyone.

Her mind had originally gone to Gaila and she knew the green Orion girl had probably done worse things than crush on a professor but she discarded that idea almost immediately. By admitting that she was feeling something, she could never take it back—the words would always be out there and once the infatuation passed, they would just be embarrassing reminders of the past. She did however take her roommate up on the offer to go out for the night and perhaps that was where she went wrong. Nyota Uhura enjoyed bars and went out often but never with her promiscuous friend and something told her that doing so would be a bad idea. She obviously should have listened to that voice in her head. Even still, she needed to get her mind off the placidly cold (yet for some reason, steaming hot) half Vulcan and some drinks would do the trick.

Now her roommate was gone and she was alone in the dorm; miserable and confused, irritated and absolutely ill. If she moved she risked vomiting and Uhura wasn't keen on rushing to the communal bathrooms down the hall as her stomach turned itself inside out, but she knew she needed to get moving. "Computer, time?" She managed to mumble out, her voice cracking from the yelling she had done and the electronic voice read 1p.m. back to her. A cold wave passed over her and she lifted her head gingerly from the pillow to look at her calendar only to see that it was indeed a Tuesday and she had missed Advanced Romulan, taught by Spock himself. As that thought injected itself into her muddled brain, she simply laid her head back down and passed back into unconsciousness.

Some time later, vaguely in the back of her mind she registered her door swishing open without the tell-tale beep that accompanied the swiping of a student identification card and groggily she found it odd. Cracking open one dark eye for a moment, she came face to face with the one person she wanted to keep herself hidden from. Spock peered at her curiously, concern mixed with the quintessential Vulcan blankness that she had grown to admire and for a moment Uhura considered playing dead. Before she could think of a way out of the inevitable confrontation, she felt a warm hand on her bare shoulder.

"Cadet Uhura, you were not in class today. You look ill, I will escort you to the medical ward." His words were as clipped as they usually were. Swallowing thickly, Uhura labored to roll herself onto her back and pulled the blankets up to cover her bra-clad chest.

"No Spock, I'm fine."

"You are most obviously not fine. Humans have the unfortunate habit of not seeking appropriate medical care when they need it. I am going to have to demand that you see a doctor." He responded, logically cold as he always was. She needed to forget the feelings he elicited in her and she squeezed her eyes shut, dark hair splayed messily on her pillow.

"You don't understand, I know what's wrong with me." She ground out, another pass of nausea claiming her. "I just have to wait for it to pass. I'll be fine."

She was met with a look of genuine puzzlement from the Vulcan as he stood, his eyes glued to her face instead of the silhouette of her body under the blanket. He knew she was running at least a low grade fever and her grimaces denoted that she was in a great deal of pain. "Well then, what is wrong?" A hint of aggravation crept into his level voice.

She mumbled incoherently into her arms before sighing petulantly, earning her a stern look. "Cadet Uhura, I did not hear you.

"I'm hung over Spock, okay? I just have to wait for everything to settle and I'll be back on my feet. I just… I can't function right now." She was embarrassed to admit it and color unrelated to the hangover itself flushed her brown complexion, her heart pounding in her chest. He could easily report her to the board and there would no doubt be consequences to her negligence. She chanced a glance at him and she rested her gaze on his face, waiting for her eyes to settle.

It was so out of character for her to be irresponsible and Spock was more concerned than he had been initially, lines creasing his face as he knelt down by her bed again. His Starfleet uniform seemed so bright that it hurt her eyes and she looked away while he spoke. "Why did you drink if you knew you had class?" It was illogical.

"I wanted a break, I had something on my mind." Every word she ground out felt like tiny knives against her larynx and she winced before swallowing again. She felt worse than she had when she woke up and she pulled the blanket up over her head to block out the light. She heard him stand again, his footsteps retreating as the door to her dorm slid open and shut—that was it. Nyota figured she would get her summons sometime before dinner and the Board would take away everything she had worked so hard for. Tension welled in her throat and she found back self-pitying tears, angrily wiping them away and closing her eyes under the covers.

Moments later she heard another swish of the door and the lack of beep as he returned. Standing patiently by her bed, she knew he was waiting for her to show her face and she pulled the blankets down reluctantly. In his hands were three ibuprofen and a glass bottle of water, his face infuriatingly calm while she blinked up at him. "Take these, Cadet. I have been told they will make you feel better."

She sat up slowly (oh, so slowly!) and took the proffered gifts from his hands, skin brushing skin as she popped the pills into her mouth and sipped the water. Uhura waivered where she sat and she closed her eyes once more, the heat of his gaze burning through her skin as modesty was pushed aside. She just wanted to feel better and the almost parental attention Spock was paying her unnerved her. What could he possibly think of her? Her face crumpled in self pity once again and she turned her face away from him, the migraine causing colors to flash in front of her closed eyes. The rough scrape of a chair snapped her out of her reverie and she looked up to see Spock sitting expectantly at the foot of her bed, his hands in his lap and his eyes trained on her. He sensed her question immediately.

"I am staying until you are better, Uhura." He didn't dare to use her first name, not yet. "Your roommate will be out for the entire day, I believe she is spending the night elsewhere and it is dangerous for you to be alone in this condition."

She blinked dumbly and opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to the punch. "Lay down, Cadet." There was nothing she could do but comply and she lowered her body back down, promptly slipping back into unconsciousness.

_A/N: Whoo! I love this pairing, although we'll see if I'm any good at writing them. This was written after a rather unfortunate night of my own. I hope everyone likes it and reviews are ALWAYS appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Nothing in this story is mine but the plot!_

When Nyota Uhura finally came around, no light shone through the blinds of her room and instead she was bathed in moonlight. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton and after a vain attempt to initiate saliva production, she resigned herself to prying her eyes open. Her sleep had been absolutely dreamless and only then as she regained consciousness was she remembering what had occurred both last night and that morning. Suddenly she stilled, her heart pounding against her chest when she noticed the light of her desk on. Spock, his admonishment and his pledge to keep her safe while she slept off her stupidity came flooding back and she cradled her face in the crook of her arm. Uhura couldn't believe he had caught her trying to recover from being a certifiable dumbass and she found herself scrambling for ways to cover up what had happened. Of course that was impossible, what was done was in the past and Spock wouldn't likely forget what he had seen or what she told him. Fear and disappointment melded with the blood in her veins, staring up at the ceiling as she waited for him to come back.

Maybe, she hypothesized, if she ran right now she could bypass Spock coming back from wherever he went and avoid this whole awkward situation! She closed her eyes again and sighed, marveling at her lack of logical thought in creating escape plans. This was her dorm room, if she ran where would she go? Plus he would know she was gone and they would just prolong the exchange, which Uhura wanted very much to avoid. There was nothing she could do but face him, although she wanted to face him with clothes on to forgo yet another layer of awkwardness. Slowly she rolled herself out of bed and straightened, waiting for the blinding headache to kick in as she stood but found that she was blissfully migraine free. It was a start at least and she could deal with the nausea at a later time. "Computer, lights at dim." She requested and felt around for some article of clothing she could throw on to spare herself some modesty, finding a plaid nightgown balled in the corner. At the sound of footsteps outside, she quickly unrolled the garment and threw it on just as Spock overrode her door code and entered.

They were stuck then, both looking at each other and saying nothing. It was like she was locked to the cold tile floor, long dark legs bare as the flannel only hit her upper thigh with her eyes wide. The half Vulcan too was rooted to the spot but not out of fear like she was, but rather out of something rather alien to him. Desire wasn't something Spock felt very often, especially not in the sense of lust but Nyota triggered an instinct in him that hadn't been felt in many years. He averted his eyes to the floor as his pulse quickened and a mental review of Code reminded him that it was quite inappropriate for him to even be in her room like he was. He had sat for hours, literally making sure she didn't become a casualty of an adolescent mistake. He monitored her temperature, watched her breathing closely and tested her electrolyte count with a simple mouth swab—he had only left when hunger beckoned him and he carried a simple salad with something called Gatorade for the cadet. Spock read it replaced lost nutrients that humans needed to function and so it was logical to bring her some… lemon lime seemed to be the lightest on an irritated stomach, the sales girl had told him.

A full minute passed before either of them could say anything and it was Spock who moved first, measured steps bringing him to the middle of the room where he held out the bottle of yellow liquid. "Your illness has left you deprived of vitamins, this should replace what you have lost." His voice was softer, eyes unreadable under the harsh line of his eyebrows. Did he really pick her up Gatorade after she had made an ass out of herself? Uhura simply stared and it took her a few seconds before she moved forward to take the drink from his outstretched hand.

"Thank you, Spock. I… really appreciate it." She struggled to crack the cap, her muscles complaining at the stress before he reached over and took it back. Without taking his eyes off her face, he opened the cap and handed the bottle back.

"We have things to discuss." He motioned to the desk but Nyota moved toward the bed instead, still unsteady on her feet and unwilling to plop herself in front of the harsh desk light. She settled onto the softness and that left Spock to pull over the chair he had previously been using, situating himself in front of the girl.

"You drank so much that you became ill, Uhura."

"Nyota." She corrected, her eyes locked on the grout of the tile. "You pretty much stayed here all day while I was passed out, you can call me Nyota."

He shook his head and narrowed his eyes imperceptibly. "You are avoiding the subject, Nyota." He added a slight emphasis to her name before he continued. "What could have possibly driven you to be so irresponsible? It was not just my class you missed."

She knew he had her and yet she was unwilling (to say the least) to confess to the Vulcan what had her so troubled. His eyes scalded her and she continued her silence, feeling too much like a five year old again.

"Nyota." The name was sharp out of his mouth and commanded her attention, forcing her to look up and into his eyes. "You will tell me what is wrong with you." She knew he didn't mean physically—he knew all her physical symptoms better than she did, but she was mortified at the prospect of telling him how she felt. He would quote the rule book to her and tell her how inappropriate it was for her to have the feelings she did, overall it would be a train wreck and it would leave them both injured. Uhura took a sip of the Gatorade and tried to drop her gaze to the floor, but his tone made her look up once more.

"If you do not tell me Cadet, I will force it from you."

Her eyes widened and he immediately regretted frightening her. Mind melds were an easy way to convey thoughts without the impediment of words and Spock was willing to meld himself with Nyota to get her to open up about what was wrong. He certainly hadn't meant his words to come out so menacingly.

"I'd rather not say, if its all the same to you. I think it would hurt us both if I did." Her voice was rusty from disuse and she took another gulp of the juice, not realizing she might have given herself away. Spock's eyes snapped up, narrowing in concentration.

"Us both?" He repeated slowly. "Your mental duress has to do with me?" His mind reeled and he withdrew in an attempt to work out what he had possibly done to upset her. She was his favorite student although preferential treatment was never shown and he noticed instantly when she came in with a frown. Her mental state was of great importance to him and he often went out of his way to praise her flawless work and even petition for her in front of the Board for access to the language lab.

"No, I mean… kind of. It has to do with you, but its not something you could have helped." She stumbled over her words, setting the bottle aside in order to convey her thoughts with her hands. "You didn't intentionally cause anything, it was a by product of something." Uhura searched his face with her eyes and they locked gazes for the second time that night, both freezing. She was on the edge of a cliff, teetering one way and then the next. She could claw her way back to solid ground, thank him for his concern and send him on his way…. Or she could throw herself off the cliff and tell him how she felt. Perhaps there would be a safety net to catch her as she plummeted.

When he reached out to her, she didn't flinch but rather leaned into his touch as his fingers settled on the left side of her face. Instantaneously she was pulled into the recesses of his mind and she was falling through time and space, snippets of memories flashing like trailers from a movie as she felt him experience her own memories as well. She knew her emotions spoke for herself and she relived the giddiness, the joy, the fear, the admiration and that inkling of something deeper play out before she thought to look at what he was offering her. She felt the hitch in his placid exterior when he saw her, the rush of adrenaline and the impressions she left on him. When he finally disconnected, they were both left reeling from the effects.

Never had Nyota been so nauseous in her life and without ceremony, she leapt up and stumbled to the door before throwing herself outside and into the hallway. The mind meld was intense, Spock knew that much but he had not taken her queasy state of stomach into consideration—apparently neither had she and he was left with her residual memories and a tightness in his pants.

_Authors Note: Thank you guys so much for the warm reception of part one, initially I wasn't going to put up a part two but the encouragement was too much to ignore. Spock as a nursemaid hadn't been done and I liked to play on the fact that Uhura is still young and prone to being dumb sometimes. Please review! xoxo_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing but the plot._

Miraculously she had made it to the bathrooms before she couldn't hold it anymore and collapsed into a stall, the stressful events and delicate state of her stomach leaving her to heave quietly alone in the darkness. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, both from the fever of the mind meld and something deeper that he had impressed upon her. Uhura was aware of her rising body temperature as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the space age toilet but immediately felt better once she had finished. She was exhausted, absolutely wiped from what had transpired between her and Spock as well as the day of recovery—she leaned against the slick metal of the stall and fevered hands pressed to the cool tile beneath her. Her plaid nightgown clung to her as her body lost more precious hydration and for a moment she simply existed.

Nyota had seen what Spock had perhaps not wanted to show her and was floored (literally it seemed, and she managed a weak smirk at her own bad pun) by her findings. He was impressed by her academic talents and her grasp of languages but there had been something lurking underneath that, something hot and foreign that had sent a shot right between her legs. He found her attractive and that was a comfort but what she had felt from him was something akin to attraction, although much deeper. She was well versed in basic Vulcan psychology and she knew how powerful emotions truly ran within the species; only the uneducated still believed Vulcans were devoid of emotion and what she had felt from him seemed overpowering.

Slowly she lifted herself to her feet, shakily balancing herself on the wall of the stall while the toilet flushed itself. Did she really have the courage to face him, after bearing the burden she had tried so hard to hide from him? There was no doubt he felt something for her and she wasn't going to argue that, but _feeling_ something and acting upon it were two different cases. Her greatest fear could be realized and he could send her on her way without so much as a goodbye if he wanted to terminate whatever was growing between them. He could still cut his recommendation for her use of the Academy's resources and she would be stranded… Nyota took a deep breath to clear her mind and brought herself back to reality. With trembling fingers, she unlocked the stall door and padded out toward the sinks where she indulged in the complimentary tooth bush and toothpaste combo her floor had set up.

After many nights of drunken girls passing out by the toilets, they all decided it would be smart to stock the communal bathroom with hygiene products.

Marveling at the amazing foresight her fellow Cadets had, she vigorously scrubbed her teeth and spit only to repeat the process one more time. She felt disgusting from her day of burning off alcohol in her sleep and looked even worse. She cringed at her face in the mirror and took the time to splash cold water over her parched skin before shaking herself and heading toward the door. No one was around and it made her wonder exactly how late it was, preoccupied as she flung the door open before mindlessly walking out into the hallway. Suddenly she collided with something most definitely warm but solid and Uhura yelped before she was steadied by a pair of hands, her eyes flying up from the floor and up to the face of a rather flustered Spock. She had been gone a long while and the Vulcan had left to investigate her whereabouts, although he was fairly sure she had locked herself in the lavatory by the thoughts she left him a split second before they parted. Of course she knew nothing of his concern and was therefore not expecting him to be waiting for her outside the bathroom.

"I am sorry for startling you, I merely wanted to affirm that you were well." His voice was soft, his hands still on her arms in an attempt to settle her and she laughed weakly.

"I didn't expect you to be camping outside the bathroom." She joked, a tired smirk playing on her chapped lips. It was with reluctance that he pulled his hands away from her and handed the bottle of lukewarm Gatorade to her with concern flashing in his eyes.

"You are dehydrated, Cadet." He stated authoritatively and although no one was in the hallway to witness their interaction, the Vulcan glanced around before pointedly looking at her door. "You need to rest."

Nyota figured 'rest' was code for 'we need to talk about what just happened' and she led the way into her dorm, keying in the combination on the door panel before striding inside with him on her heels. She took a swig of Gatorade before sitting back on the bed, imbibed with a new boldness that had not been present previously though whether it was from her newfound information or the sugar from the drink… she couldn't tell. Her eyes were underlined with dark circles that stood against the creamy brown of her skin and her lips were decidedly dry, but she looked at him with a new confidence. It came from the revelation that he had to explain himself as well, she was not alone on the proverbial chopping block and it emboldened her. Spock sensed the new predatory glint in her eye and frowned at her.

"Cadet…" He started before she cut him off.

"Nyota. We've been through this." She corrected, watching him shift his weight from one foot to the other.

"Nyota." He corrected himself. "I would like to apologize, I should not have suggested a mind meld while you are in your current state." He lowered his head as he stood awkwardly by the foot of her bed. "It is a stressful experience and you were not prepared." She was up in a flash and although her head spun with the effort, she approached him and placed a comforting hand on his arm, feeling his muscles tense under her touch.

"If I didn't want it, I would have said no." She looked up into his face, her self consciousness melting into concern for him. There was no reason for him to beat himself up over her vomiting spell. "Besides," She reasoned. "It was going to happen sooner or later. It comes with the territory after drinking." A smile, brilliant in its intensity shone at him and finally he lifted his eyes from the worn tile of her dorm room, his eyes showing her a storm of emotions he could not hold back.

"This is inappropriate."

"I know."

It was an honest exchange, the only words spoken about what they had both seen in each other and yet the elephant in the room continued to trumpet. The unspoken laid between them and screamed to be acknowledged, so much that it made Nyota's head pound once again and her face contorted in a grimace of pain. She moved to step away, to get some air as her entire being drowned in him but he reached out and took her head in his hands—gentle pressures and caresses over delicate points on her cranium instantly relieved the migraine that had besieged her and she smiled up at him. Over the past few months that she had worked with Spock, he had never touched her until today and a part of her mind celebrated her stupidity. For a brief flash in time she was not Nyota Uhura the genius, the untouchable or the subordinate but rather she became Nyota the ill, the one who needed to be comforted. There had been lust in their exchange but that could wait; Spock would not compromise what they had right now for some fleeting release.

His hands remained cradling her skull as she moved ever closer to him, her legs moving on their own accord before finally their bodies pressed up against one another. She could feel the heat radiate from him and she noted that the Vulcan resting body temperature was far hotter than a human's, although Spock was only half Vulcan she most definitely felt a difference. He was a furnace as his heart beat rapidly in his chest while Uhura rested her cheek against the synthetic fabric of his Starfleet uniform, her arms moving to embrace him before resting on his back. Much more reluctantly she felt his arms move to cradle her shoulders and she sighed, pressing her face up into the crook of his neck. There they stood, both afraid that if they moved the spell would suddenly break and they would both be left pitifully alone. Her grip on his body tightened as emotion ripped through her unbidden, an overwhelming affection and fondness for him threatening to overtake her as tears leaked from her tired eyes; he felt her breath hitch and considered pulling away but found himself secured most completely by her arms. All he could do was hold her closer and trace patterns on her lower back through the fabric of her nightgown.

Spock felt her heart pump steadily under his hand, much slower than his own and in a moment of temporary vulnerability he let his cheek rest against the top of her head. Her skin was still clammy and his eyes rested on the forgotten bottle of yellow liquid on the floor. The Cadet needed to replenish her vitamin supply or she would surely be ill the following day as well, his eyes drifting closed for one blissful moment before he spoke. "Nyota, you have not consumed anything of nutrition in more than twenty four hours. Your human metabolism is slowing down, you need to eat." His words were mumbled into her hair as she swayed against him and she knew he was right, but nothing in the world could cure a hang over like his smell.

It was strange, most smells (especially now, in her heightened queasy state) made her ill but he was a mixture of generic laundry detergent and a warm summer day. There she stood until she thought her legs would give out from under her, wrapped in a rather protective embrace and feeling calm for the first time in ages—he hadn't rejected her, turned her over to the Council or cut off contact but rather left the future open for discussion. It was all she could ask really, she would never expect him to commit to anything while she was vomiting all over her communal bathrooms but he hadn't confirmed her greatest fears. Uhura felt him reluctantly pull away and steadied her with hands on both of her arms before his sharp eyes raked across her room. Spock knew he had seen a pair of pants laying around somewhere… after all, he had spent all day in her room making sure she didn't swallow her tongue and he strode to the side of her desk.

The jeans he retrieved were quickly turned over to their owner and the minute he handed them off, he turned and faced the wall while she dressed herself. Nyota stared at the garment in her hand and back at the Vulcan in puzzlement.

"Hey Spock, why do I need my pants? I'm not even asking how you knew they were over there." She shifted as her insides growled in protest, digestive juices sloshing around her empty stomach.

"Like I stated before, you need to consume nutrients. We are going out to eat." He answered, as if it were completely obvious.

She blinked a few times and proceeded to slip on the jeans without further argument, her world spinning for a moment before she steadied herself on the bed. Her blood sugar was low and she knew he was right about getting some food, before she could bother to ask where they were going he was ushering her toward the door. She knew she looked ridiculous; her jeans looked odd under her plaid nightgown, which had definitely seen better days but she found herself not caring as she slipped on a pair of flats. The fluorescent light of the hallway did nothing for her washed out complexion but she couldn't have cared less as his hand found the small of her back and steered her toward the exit confidently. Once they reached the outside, she was met with a rush of fresh air and moonlight before she turned to him.

"Spock, its nearly two in the morning. Where are we going to get decent food at two in the morning?" She blinked up at him and his mouth just quirked into what could be considered a Vulcan smile.

"There is a suitable diner open twenty four hours a day west of the engineering department. You will fill yourself there." With that said, he took her arm and gently steered her away from the dormitories and all she could do was follow.

_Authors Note—Holy crap guys, thank you so much for all the amazing reviews and encouragement to finish this story. I wasn't sure where it was going with the first chapter but everyone has been so kind and receptive. I have a little something in mind for the next chapter so there will definitely be more._

_Your reviews feed my muse! xoxo_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot._

_Authors Note: I hope this chapter turned out alright. It was a little strange for me to work out but I hope everyone likes it. As an aside, I sort of disregarded organ placement (ie—I forgot =D) and took some creative liberties in the location of his heart on the grounds that he is half human. I am so glad this story is getting such awesome reviews, you guys seriously rock. Every time I read the feedback from everyone, its like a jolt of energy. This story was wildly exceeded my expectations and I'm so pleased. There might or might not be a follow up to this chapter. If there isn't another chapter then there will certainly be an epilogue. Once again, reviews make my world go round! xoxo_

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The diner was shady and Nyota eyed the flickering neon lights with trepidation, stalling only for a half second before falling back in step with her long legged counterpart. She had known of the diner's existence in the back of her mind but she had never been there and she certainly wasn't aware that it served food through the night. It was indeed late and she needed to get something in her stomach, her low blood sugar causing her vision to blur before she felt his hand on her shoulder. She wasn't aware that she had stopped walking but she was painfully cognoscente of how unbearably warm Spock's touch had become. She took a deep breath and shook the feeling away, her clammy skin feeling cool in the night air as he once again led her without a word—no one would question them, she doubted anyone knew who they were anyway. The anonymity put her at ease as they walked up the warbled concrete path to the gaudy green doors, the harsh lights burning holes through her retinas.

The hang over itself had diminished but she was left with the residual side effects of being dehydrated and not eating… not to mention her episode in the bathroom left her all but sapped of energy. In another half hearted wave of self pity, she wondered how he could look at her in that state but the thoughts were quickly quelled as Spock held the door open for her. He was full of surprises and Uhura was touched by the continuous gestures of affection that he so willingly offered, even in the face of such a stupid mistake. The diner was humid even though the air system was on full blast, leaving her uncomfortable as they waited for a waitress to seat them and she closed her eyes against the grating light for a moment. Spock saw her face fall in a grimace and with a cursory glance around the empty diner, he placed three of his fingers at the base of her skull. She relaxed instantly but had no time to thank him before a rather disgruntled woman slid up to the podium by which they were standing, her frizzed hair sticking out from beneath her issued hat. "Two?" She growled and without waiting for an answer, picked up two menus and strode to the back of the diner.

The moldy carpet and cracked booths were eyesores but the smell of pancakes, eggs and coffee instantly made up for any deficiency the eatery had. Nyota slid happily into one side of the booth before Spock sat himself on the opposite side and the waitress tossed down the menus, walking away before they could order drinks. Spock was mildly irritated at the lack of service and looked to her to gauge her own reaction but the girl had her face buried in the laminated menu.

"These look super vintage, I didn't know they even made actual menus anymore." She marveled, all of a sudden starving. The food looked disgustingly greasy and yet amazingly appetizing at the same time, her stomach audibly growling as she raked over the selection. When the woman came back with a PDA and a sigh of aggravation, Nyota looked up and smiled.

"I'll take…" She started with a lilt in her voice, strangely happy to be surrounded by terrible food and Spock at the same time. However, she was cut off.

"She will order a small glass of orange juice, one hard boiled egg and perhaps some wheat toast. By any chance, do you serve fruit?" Spock's voice sliced through her own and he looked at the waitress nonplussed, Vulcan haughtiness shining through with every word which left both women speechless and slackjawed. Before Uhura could scoff at the disappointingly boring selection, he turned his attention to her. "Nothing else here will adequately provide the nutrition you require. This will do for now."

She was of course going to retort except the older woman beat her to it, cocking out a hip and tapping her stylus impatiently on the metal of her PDA. "What in the hell do you think this is, a grocery store? No we don't have any fruit…" She trailed off, but not before throwing in some more colorful curses under her breath and eyeing the points of his ears with disdain. Unfortunately discrimination on Earth had evolved into a dislike for other species instead of dislike for one another and pockets of such racism sparked up every now and again. Spock however took it in stride but he was no idiot; he knew humans were strong in their convictions about anything considered abnormal and he was decidedly strange to them. Deciding to ignore the first part of her answer, he continued.

"I will order a cup of coffee and toast." He said, handing her the menus while his eyes lingered on Uhura's face. She had a rough recovery and he could see the toll it had taken on her, although it did nothing to keep his affection for her at bay. He found himself lingering over the bridge of her nose and the long lashes that lined her dark eyes (although they were shadowed from the stress), admiring how well made she was. Suddenly the tightness in his pants was back and he shifted uncomfortably, cheeks tinged green with embarrassment while he silently thanked the inventor of tables. He was completely hidden from view of course but his physical reaction was something to consider closely while they discussed the possibilities that lay ahead of them. It was she who spoke first, toying with her napkin as her eyes locked on the chipped paint of the table nervously.

"I know what you saw when we connected." She stated with no preamble, her voice soft as she raised her eyes. "I can't help it." A confession, laced with desperation while her face remained surprisingly neutral. "Its been there for months now, I don't know how to shake it. I tried you know, I tried ignoring it but it just seemed to come back stronger. It got so bad that I would daydream." She paused and suddenly felt extremely foolish. "That's why I went out and drank. To keep all of _that_ under control."

There was no need to elaborate upon what _that_ could have possibly been and Spock recalled the flash flood he had invited when their minds joined, painfully aware that her feelings were both emotional as well as physical. He had received clips of her daydreams, artistically played out on the desk of his office as well as the counter in the language lab and that recollection did absolutely nothing for the nearly painful tension in his pants. He couldn't lie to her, that would serve no purpose and yet he knew his obligation to Code. He was prohibited from pursuing romantic involvement with his students and it was clearly outlined, he saw no way to circumvent the issue. A small sigh issued from his lips and he was about to speak before their waitress waddled up with arms filled with food. The appropriate dishes were placed down without a word and Nyota wasn't surprised to hear more angry muttering as the woman waddled away.

Food was no longer on her mind but she gulped the orange juice down, the tang shocking her taste buds into working once more and she picked up a piece of toast. This was the moment of truth, she wagered. This was where Spock either told her to put on her big girl panties and get over herself or they discussed a suitable course of action that was pleasant to the both of them. She sincerely hoped he decided on the latter and her mind flashed back to the touches and caresses he bestowed upon her in the past few hours she had been conscious. Nyota was convinced he wouldn't report her to the Board and that gave her peace of mind, her academic progress safe within the boundaries of their relationship but she couldn't help but feel anxious. She nibbled at the toast before the half Vulcan finally decided to speak.

"I am sorry you have suffered, I too felt attracted to you and did all in my power not to act upon it." His own confession made her head snap up and she looked at him with wide eyes. He paid particular attention to his toast as he spoke. "You know advancing our relationship beyond teacher-student protocol is against the rules. I could be suspended from teaching and you could be expelled." There it was, the blunt truth of their situation outlined once more in his level pitch and she fought the urge to bury her face in her arms. "However…"

He trailed off as his eyes lifted from the uneaten toast, her eyes locking with him over the expanse of the table and she thought her heart was going to explode from her chest. She dared not to hope but her heart pulled in double time, threatening to flood her veins with the metallic twang of adrenaline—she could have sworn he saw her pupils dilate. "If you were to focus on another aspect of xenolinguistics, enroll under the tutelage of another professor it might lessen suspicion." There was a spark in her eye, ignited by the heat that had come from between them as he continued. "We would of course need to exercise extreme discretion if you are interested in exploring a new level in our relationship. No one must know." If Uhura had been chewing, she might have choked.

Disbelief mixed with a newfound joy lit her features and Spock couldn't help but return a fraction of the smile she sent him, looking back down at his toast before taking a small bite. She could barely contain herself and she successfully fought the urge to giggle, hope and affection rising from deep below her stomach as she happily munched the lukewarm toast. Nothing in the world could ruin her mood and she contemplated whether this was just another daydream; lo and behold she still felt too physically ill for the whole scenario to be a dream. When the toast was gone, she moved onto the egg and found her appetite voracious as she salted and cut the hardboiled rubber. She even eyed his coffee but once he took an obligatory sip of the black sludge, she resisted snagging it. Her blood sugar had leveled out for the moment, her mood was higher than it had ever been and she couldn't help but grin at him from across the table.

Her happiness was blinding and Spock too felt the elation that rose with the acknowledgement of his feelings and the determination to do something about them, although he knew it was slightly out of character for him to even entertain romantic involvement. It was illogical to essentially disregard the rules but it was logical to ensure the well being of someone whom he deeply cared about—had he denied her, she would have been under extreme duress and her grades might have dropped. Perhaps he had chosen the less Vulcan route but he was only _half_ Vulcan and that gave him leeway in his decisions according to his mother. When he had his fill, he simply pulled out a twenty dollar bill and left it on the table before sliding out of the booth and waiting patiently for her to follow.

Nyota looked at the bill amused. "She didn't even bring us the check."

"Our expenses would amount to $12.67, I have already done the calculations. The rest is tip, although I am reluctant to leave her anything at all." He said with a twitch of his mouth before he led the way out of the diner and into the chilly night air. The strange pair walked side by side as a breeze blew through campus, leaving Uhura to shiver slightly and inch closer to her half Vulcan counterpart. He looked down at her and without a word gently drew her into his side, his arm around her shoulder as his body heat mingled with her own. They walked that way in comfortable silence, reveling in the companionship brought along by Uhura's own childish mistake.


	5. Epilogue

_iDisclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot./i_

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The only thing that was warm in Spock's room happened to be nestled in the crisp white sheets beside his own body, naked flesh pressing against flesh as the light from the wall-mounted television cast an eerie glow. When Spock had taken the teaching position at Starfleet, he hadn't bothered to decorate the room he had been assigned to—the walls remained a stark white, the tile was spotless as always and he never ventured outside the bland cotton sheets the academy provided. He saw no reason to decorate as his fully human counterparts did and thus his private quarters remained just as placid as his outward exterior.

With the exception of Nyota Uhura's clothes strewn upon his floor, nothing was out of place.

They laid tangled in each other's limbs as if it were the most natural position in the world, both pretending to watch the folded features of a Klingon actor flash across the screen while they synchronized their breathing. Everything had been meticulously planned by Spock himself, his Vulcan neuroticism and attention to detail ensuring that no one ever suspected their torrid relationship in its infancy. Nyota was transferred to Acoustics and had declared to the Council that she was refocusing her major to the Romulan dialects in an attempt to better understand the many intricacies that Starfleet had yet to decode within the language. It was no surprise when the Council approved wholeheartedly and in fact the transfer had been Spock's idea. He knew more than anyone how Starfleet sought to compile knowledge on literally everything in the galaxy—it was a ridiculously complicated undertaking but within the confines of their situation, it worked to their advantage. The intelligent cadet was placed under another professor's tutelage where she excelled. That too was part of his plan although it came naturally to the dark skinned girl either way. She was safely out from under the microscope of the Council and as long as she kept up her astounding scores, she was fairly free to move about the campus freely. Spock was just as placid as he had ever been and his own mission was one of consistency, continuity and stability. He continued his lectures as if he was not carrying on an intimate relationship with a former student who happened to be one of the most aesthetically pleasing women Earth had to offer, which was easier said than done at some points.

He reveled in the time they spent together and he was pleased to find that she did not require entertainment. Often he saw human females crying out for attention and requiring an entire circus to keep them happy; at one point he even felt a slight twinge of pity for the average human male. Their courtship rituals were quite complicated and miscommunications meant the death of any potential relationship. Lucky for the half-Vulcan, Nyota required no adornments to be content (whether social or physical) and she often curled herself beside him with a PDA and scrolled through the latest articles published by the Intergalactic Xenolinguistic Association. This particular night happened to be slightly more special than the rest they had spent together and Spock glanced to Uhura, his eyes analytically sweeping over her features before he refocused on the television. It was their "anniversary", or at least that was what he thought it was called—it had been six Earth months since he had sat the long vigil by her bedside and nursed her through her illness. No, that was not what she called it… it was a ihangover/i although technically her body exhibited symptoms of traditional illness. He had come to learn that much of human illness was dependent on intellectual approach, for it seemed to him that Nyota perceived illness to be an affliction which she could not control.

Although Dr. McCoy would most likely disagree with that description of the term.

She shifted beside him and her soft skin slid sensually along the length of his own nude form before adjusting herself to press her chest into his arm. Dark eyes gazed up into his face and with the barest hint of a smile, he ventured to lock eyes with the cadet who had reconstructed his world from the ground up. Spock felt her heart beat steadily beneath her sternum, beneath the deliriously soft mound of her breast which she had placed so courteously on his bicep and marveled at the loyal rhythm. It was then that he cleared his throat softly before speaking over the busy hum of the vapid primetime alien sitcom.

"It has been six months since we agreed to further investigating our relationship." His words, if taken at face value, were lukewarm and neutral but Uhura knew better. Her face lit immediately and she laughed, running her hand affectionately over his bare chest.

"So it has. I didn't think you'd actually remember though!" She was quietly pleased that he cared enough to bring it up, although she desperately wished the birth of their relationship had erupted under different circumstances. Nyota was reminded every time she saw a slobbering, drunk classmate of how terrible she looked when he first saw her and she buried her face in his arm. "I still can't believe it."

A look of perplexed concern crossed the half-Vulcan's face. "Explain." He softly demanded, his full attention turning to the woman who had captured his heart while in her worst state. She lifted her head and grimaced, laughing sheepishly as she ran an absentminded finger along the line of his ribs.

"Well, I wasn't exactly looking my best… Not to mention that I was drinking while underage and then missed your class because of it. All things considered, I'm pretty sure the outcome could have been a hell of a lot worse." She broke out in nervous laughter then, the peaks of her breasts jiggling enticingly against him as she proceeded to inch closer. "I was a hot mess."

Spock was quiet for a few moments and saw her logic: had he turned her in to the Council, she would have lost a great portion of her reputation and might have even been expelled. He was honest with himself then and realized that he would never have turned her in, even though rules were meant to be followed and not overlooked. He was concerned more about her safety that day than anything else in the world and he committed himself to watching over her until she was healthy once more. The warmth pinballing between their bodies drew him back to the present and he couldn't help but smile softly while her cheeks colored in embarrassment.

"You were not in the best physical condition." He conceded with a small shrug but before the look of disappointment could register on her face, he continued. "Your beauty cannot be eclipsed, Nyota. You might have been dehydrated, extremely undernourished and devoid of key electrolytes but your beauty lingered still."

Uhura blinked three times in slow succession before leaning up gracefully to press her full lips against his, molding herself more completely into the landscape of his body until she was laid completely atop him. It was Spock who deepened the kiss, one hand traveling the curves of her side while the other came to rest at the base of her neck—it was this connection that made him feel more alive than he ever had and his pulse began to race. Reining in his runaway desires, he felt her pull away and rest her head in the crook of his neck while they both contemplated the depth and complexity of their relationship. Spock fondly reminisced about the days when he would see her in class while Nyota simply fought to keep her breathing steady. Finally, when she couldn't take it anymore, her voice rang out.

"Television off. Lights off." And they sank into another tangle of limbs and trust.

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iAuthors Note: So this is the end! I am so, so sorry that this took so long to get up and to be honest I feel like it's a sub-par finish. I wanted to post something though to get some closure. Thank you bso/b much to everyone who has reviewed, I'm shocked at how well this was accepted! Feel free to leave more reviews, they entice me to write more. Its been an awesome ride!!


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